When Christmas Carols Come True
by refisher
Summary: A cute holiday short for everyone. SABER. Complete.


**WHEN CHRISTMAS CAROLS COME TRUE**  
By AussieHottieMjM

DISCLAIMER  
I (unfortunately) do not own Profiler or any of the characters. I am merely a shameless fangirl who is distraught by the abrupt end of the show, and must naturally continue it through fic. ;)

RATING  
This fic is rated K+ for smooching.

SYNOPSIS  
A cute holiday short for everyone.

SETTING  
The story takes place five or six years after the novel's end.

AUTHOR'S NOTE  
This was written in response to a holiday fan fiction challenge at Profiler Fans on LiveJournal.

x x x

"John, have you seen Bailey?" Sam asked her co-worker as he entered the kitchen. On Christmas Eve, the Team started the tradition of gathering at Sam's house for dinner and a gift exchange. Presently, Sam and Angel were preparing dinner and John had no doubt come because he had smelled something pleasing to his appetite.

"Are you kidding?" John replied. "He's the only person here dressed up as a happy, fat, old man with rosy cheeks and a suit to match."

"Ah," Sam said. "And it's 'jolly,' not 'happy.'"

"What's the difference?"

Sam thought about going into explanation, but instead, "Never mind. So where is he?"

"Living room, in the doorway, and by the tree."

"Thanks. Do you mind stepping in for me here?" Sam requested.

John looked at Angel and grinned. "Food and a beautiful woman is all I could as for on Christmas." As Sam exited, he walked over to the stove next to Angel. He picked up a clean spoon, sampling the mashed potatoes. Angel playfully slapped his hand and he dropped the spoon on the ground, throwing her an adorable pout that demanded a kiss.

She knew exactly what she wanted.

"I don't see a mistletoe." This one got a look of disbelief from John Michael Grant.

x x x

"Bailey, there you are!" Sam called as she walked toward her longtime, mutual friend.

"Hey, Sam!" Bailey greeted. "Oh, excuse me," he corrected. "Ho! Ho! Ho!"

"It's okay, I know Santa's not real."

"Santa's not real?" Bailey played.

"Says the Look-a-Like who's smoking a cigar."

"How do you know Santa doesn't smoke? It's a big job, you know – getting all the children of the world their gifts in one night."

Sam rolled her eyes. "And I suppose he drinks, too?"

"You think?"

Sam decided to get back to the reason she was there before this conversation got too out of hand. "You said you had wanted to see me in private?" she asked, recalling his request over the phone that morning.

Bailey's cheery smile faded into a blank, but serious expression. Bailey nodded. "I wanted to give you your gift apart from everyone else's." She smiled and gestured it was okay with her, feeling a bit special. Bailey reached inside his Santa Bag – drawing a short laugh from Sam in the process – and extracting a small black box. Sam felt a litter nervous now, because she knew Bailey wasn't the kind of guy to buy something good-looking enough to fit in a box like that unless –

"Open it," he said, his arm extended with the box in his upward palm.

"Bailey," she said softly. Taking the box delicately out of his hand and into hers, she opened it slowly – as if for dramatic effect. Inside was a solid and very real diamond heart no bigger than a button on the shirts Bailey wore. It was white, and gold trim decorated the magnificent piece as a smile does a baby. "Bailey–"

"Just... let me explain it," he interrupted, his heart dead set on explaining how he felt about her. "This is what I see when I look at you: a beautiful heart of gold but with the strength and beauty of a diamond... And it only makes me fall more in love with you."

Sam felt a lump form in her throat. She'd known – well, suspected – for a year or two how Bailey felt, but she'd never think he'd act on it, especially with –

"Jack," she said. There was a moment's pause.

"Jack has broken this heart too many times," he insisted, sure that nothing could keep him from her. "Besides," he added, "it's not like Jack hasn't wanted to kill me before."

The side of Sam's mouth twitched into a small smile.

"Give me a chance, Sam." When the silence became too much, he added, "Dinner the Twenty Seventh at seven o'clock?"

"I'll give you as many chances you need," Sam said. "It's a date." Bailey's lips formed themselves into a loving smile. "I'd better get back to the kitchen," Sam began. "And thanks for the gift. I'll love it forever."

As she turned to leave, Bailey spoke, "Wait." He placed a hand on her arm and pointed to the object hanging above them in the doorway. "Mistletoe." Same smiled and brought her lips to his.

x x x

"Why are you so happy?" John asked Chloe Waters, who looked more and more like Sam each day.

"I saw Mommy kissing Santa Clause under the mistletoe."


End file.
